


That One First and maybe Last Time

by ZairaA



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Drunken Kissing, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Mild Somnophilia, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZairaA/pseuds/ZairaA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin gets drunk, Arthur gets more than he expected, namely his manservant's tongue shoved down his throat. Arthur knows he should resist, but he has always wanted to know how those enticing lips would taste...</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One First and maybe Last Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merlocked18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlocked18/gifts).



> Written for Tavern Tales' "First Time, Last Time, That One Time" Theme. 
> 
> Happy Birthday, to the super special birthday gurl, Merlocked18! *hugs and twirls you* I baked you a fic-cake, trying to put in as many of your kinks as I could manage - I hope I didn't make too much of a mess! ;)

_The first time_ Arthur let his manservant enjoy himself and get in his cups, Merlin did the one thing Arthur was completely unprepared for. He kissed him. 

Camelot had been celebrating Beltane with a grand feast and Merlin, apparently unaccustomed to the consumption of alcohol, had soon been three sheets to the wind. He could hardly keep on his own two feet, draping himself against Arthur's side while they staggered into the direction of the prince's quarters, and so Arthur at first thought Merlin had merely stumbled when he got pushed into an alcove and against the wall. Only then his lanky manservant wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck, grabbed him by the hair rather forcefully and shoved a tongue into his mouth. 

To say Arthur had been stunned would have been an understatement, but to say he minded terribly would have been a lie. Still, somewhere in the back of his mind, he realised that Merlin was incredibly drunk and probably had no idea what he was doing or who he was doing it with and, yes, Arthur should probably stop him. 

''Hmmm... Arth'r,'' Merlin moaned against his lips then, disabusing Arthur of that misconception at least, but that still only proved that Merlin was not really in his right mind.

Torn between the temptation to kiss back and the will to be the better man, Arthur tried to hold Merlin steady - lest he fall and hurt himself - but then hat minx started to rub himself against Arthur's front like a cat in heat and, dear gods, certainly not even a knight of Camelot could be expected to resist that? Especially when said knight might have had a cup too many himself. 

Before Arthur knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Merlin by the hips and turned them until it was Merlin shoved up against the wall, his long legs wrapping around Arthur's waist. Arthur couldn't say whether it was the wine that was making him dizzy or the taste of Merlin, forbidden and so incredibly sweet he wanted to lick up every last drop of it. 

Arthur had spent so many months staring at Merlin's awfully enticing lips, so plump and pink, all the time wondering how it would feel to bite them like a ripe fruit. He couldn't hold back now, couldn't stop himself from devouring Merlin's mouth until it looked red and raw and used, and Merlin moaned enthusiastically, mumbling broken syllables of ''Arth-ung...thur.. yeah... gods Arthuhh...need...uhh...'' 

Merlin wasn't pliant though, not like the few women Arthur had bedded. He gave as good as he got, clawing and pushing and licking into Arthur, ripping at his hair and sucking on his tongue, angling his head so that they could fall even deeper into the kiss. He tasted of spiced wine and honey, and Arthur was almost sure it must be drunken hallucinations, but Merlin's hands made him tingle wherever they touched. 

''Merlin, what are we-''

''Psssh... not allowed to talk! Is all secret.. can't let'y know... so don't tell yeah?''

''What-?'' 

Arthur would have called a stop then, he really would have, but Merlin's tongue was back, exploring his mouth and gliding sensually against his own, stealing all his breath, and Arthur forgot what he had wanted to ask. He raked his hands through the thick of Merlin's dark hair, marvelling at how soft it was, and pulled his head down to drink every sigh and swallow every moan, not wanting to let any go to waste. Time lost any meaning and their surroundings were forgotten as they kissed and kissed and kissed and Arthur pushed his hands under Merlin's loose tunic, marvelling at the softness of his skin.

He nearly didn't hear the footsteps over their harsh panting and Merlin's incoherent mumbles, and so they had almost reached their not very well hidden corner when Arthur became aware of them. He quickly pressed a hand over Merlin's mouth, turning completely still. Suddenly, his mind provided him with a very vivid image of what they must look like. The prince holding his manservant up against the wall, their groins pressed against each other in the most obscene way, tunics shoved up, hair in disarray and lips bruised by forbidden kisses. It should have been like a bucket of iced water, but instead it sent a thrill through Arthur that went right towards his aching cock. He saw the servant walk past them, not looking right or left, and he almost wanted to pull his hand away from Merlin's mouth, wanted to push against him more forcefully and make him cry out. He felt exhilarated and carefree and as if he owned the whole world. 

Bending forward, he pressed his lips against the pale skin of Merlin's neck, burying the laugh that wanted to bubble up in his throat, and then licked and bit until a small bruise formed under his ministrations. Merlin melted against him, completely boneless.

''Merlin?''

His manservant only sighed, soft and content, and then pressed his face into the crook of Arthur's neck, starting to snore. 

''You can't be serious...'' 

Arthur slumped forward, holding Merlin up between him and the wall, and put his forehead against the blessedly cool stone. He would have laughed then, had his cock not been straining so hard against his breeches it was actually painful. 

Merlin curled himself closer around Arthur, smacking his lips in his drunken stupor, and Arthur sighed. Nothing to be done about it. He hoisted Merlin up further over his shoulder and, after ascertaining himself the corridor was clear, made his way back to his quarters with one semi-conscious manservant in his arms. 

Merlin was surprisingly heavy, considering he was mostly skin and bones, and Arthur dropped him down on his bed with a huff. Merlin only smiled and turned on his side, snuffling a little and pulling his knees up. For a moment Arthur could only stare. Merlin's tunic had ridden up, exposing the long, pale expanse of his back, and his breeches - while loose on his hips - stretched tightly over a small, round arse. Arthur's hand itched to touch him, but he knew he should not. He knew. 

He couldn't let Merlin sleep in his boots though, so Arthur pulled them off and then got rid off his own before he lay down behind Merlin. For a moment he just lay there, staring at Merlin's back and wondering about that kiss, wondering what it meant. Merlin was so thin, Arthur thought, he could count every knob of his spine. He only realised that he had reached out when the tips of his fingers brushed over them one by one. Merlin's skin was warm. It felt good to touch him like this, gently, like Arthur would never have dared if the situation had been different. He shuffled closer before he knew what he was doing, and pressed his face into the silky hair at Merlin's neck. His cock brushed against Merlin's arse and Arthur let out a shuddering breath. He shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't. 

His body seemed to disagree, and Arthur closed his eyes when his hand came up, palming Merlin's side and gliding up to his chest. His skin was incredibly smooth, almost like a woman's, but the angles were all wrong, sharp edges and hard plains instead of soft curves. Only it didn't feel wrong, it felt right. So very right.

Hips edged forward on their own volition and his painfully hard cock pushed into the valley between Merlin's cheeks, seeking a forbidden pleasure that shouldn't feel so good. He started to move, slowly, hesitantly, and then more and more insistently, pressing soft, almost apologetic kisses against the bony wings of Merlin's shoulders. The temptation was too sore, Merlin's body too pliant, his smell too enticing. Arthur gasped out a moan, unable to hold it back. He gave in then, pulling Merlin against him and pressed into him almost desperately, imagining to pull down Merlin's breeches, to free his own cock until they were skin to skin and then spread Merlin open further, expose that small, secret furl, open him and push into him and bury himself as deep as he could in tight heat and--

Arthur shuddered, arms wrapped around his sleeping manservant, and came in his breeches. 

Afterwards, he just lay there, panting and holding on to the glorious pleasure singing in his veins, fighting off guilty thoughts and hints of shame. They became more insistent though, as the dizzy high of release abated. Arthur started to pull away, but just then Merlin turned towards him, blinking sleepily and smiling, and then throwing an arm around Arthur's waist and pressing his face into his chest with a happy sigh. 

Arthur froze. ''Merlin?''

Again, there was no answer. Feeling tired suddenly, Arthur cradled Merlin closer. He dimly thought that he should probably go and clean himself up, but Merlin's weight against him was comfortable and warm and before he could follow that idea any further, Arthur had fallen asleep. 

The next morning, Arthur woke with a start when another body stretched lazily against him. He opened his eyes to see Merlin blinking down at him, a confused frown starting to mar his features. 

''Why am I in you bed?'' Merlin asked, looking at Arthur uncertainly. ''Did you let me sleep here? What happened?''

A heavy weight, like lead, settled into Arthur's stomach. ''What's the last thing you remember?'' he asked with trepidation.

Merlin's frown deepened. ''Uh... I was at the feast and I think I was dancing with Loraine and then... things get a bit hazy. Did I fall asleep there? Why didn't you take me to my own room though?''

Arthur huffed, rolling over and trying not to wince at the uncomfortable feeling in his breeches. ''I had no intention to carry you half across the castle. And, just so you know, that was the last time I let you drink at a feast.'' 

Merlin, of course, grumbled and pouted and then went off to get them some breakfast. When the door fell shut behind him, Arthur slumped back down on his bed, burying his head in his hands. It seemed the mess in his breeches was the lesser one he had managed to make last night.

That had been many months ago now, and Merlin had never so much as hinted at any kind of attraction he might feel towards Arthur again. Arthur was back to secretly staring at Merlin's lips and, sometimes, when a day had been especially trying, he would indulge himself at night, taking hold of his hardened shaft and remembering the heat of Merlin's mouth and the softness of his skin. And he would wonder, with bitter sweet longing, whether _that one time_ was all he was ever going to have.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Maybe This Time (The Hunters And The Hunted Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448293) by [Camelittle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle)




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